


imagine being loved by me

by oh_no_oh_dear



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Post-Endgame, Sam!Cap, Wall Sex, supportive boyfriend is supportive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 18:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18666145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_no_oh_dear/pseuds/oh_no_oh_dear
Summary: Sam's feeling kind of doubtful about his new role. Bucky isn't having that nonsense.(Honestly? Now that my thesis has stopped bodyslamming me into the pavement, this is some Sambucky to get me back in the groove of writing for fun!)





	imagine being loved by me

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't seen Endgame and don't want spoilers, then... don't read the thing. I mean, it's not dissimilar from what I'd've written normally anyway so...

Bucky woke with a start, which was blessedly less and less frequent nowadays. There weren’t enough gift baskets in the world to send to princess Shuri, truly. It was a clear night at least, and despite the light pollution Bucky could see the pinpricks of stars in the dark sky. 02:48. Too early to start the day. Not that he and Sam had plans besides “Sleep,” as far as he knew.  
  
Sam.  
  
So _that’s_ why Bucky’s feet were freezing. His bed-mate wasn’t there for him to leech heat off of. Bucky sat up and yawned so widely his jaw popped and his eyes watered, but he still lingered under the warm duvet for a little longer. Warmth was something he never thought he’d get enough of, not for the rest of his life. However long that was.   
  
Bucky spent a few minutes looking for his robe and fuzzy slippers (he _hated_ being cold, okay?) before shuffling out into the living room and – yup. Sam was sitting on the couch, frowning at the shield propped up against the TV stand across from him.  
  
    “Don’t say it,” Sam rasped tiredly without looking away from the weapon. Bucky made his way over to him and flopped onto the seat next to Sam.   
  
    “Why’re you up again?” Bucky sighed, ignoring Sam’s request. Sam sat back, finally turning his head to look at Bucky. He looked annoyingly good for someone that hadn’t been sleeping well for the last few nights, but he still looked exhausted. Ever since they’d left the lake house and made their way back to their unassuming bungalow in [redacted], Sam had been restless at night. Bucky hadn’t been able to get him to talk about what was bothering him. Shit, they had a whole lot of things to talk about since the snap. Like how they went from casual fuckbuddies to living together without really discussing it. And how well it was going. What the fuck.  
  
    “Mind your business,” Sam said without any real heat. He moved to point at Bucky with his right hand, but the cast stopped him. Pointing with his left instead, he continued, “Why’re _you_ up?”  
  
    “Cold.”  
  
Sam laughed a little. “Riiiiight, you didn’t have my butt to put your fucking ice cube toes under. C’mere.”   
  
Bucky stood to go sit beside Sam, but after a pause he shuffled back off down the dark hallway. Sam heard him rustling around in the bathroom for a few moments and then Bucky was beside him again, this time sitting on the couch. He held up a pill bottle and rattled it, raising his eyebrows meaningfully at Sam.   
  
    “Time for your next dose,” Bucky said as he did indeed tuck his feet under Sam’s fantastically warm butt. Sam scowled.   
  
    “Don’t need ‘em.”  
  
    “You broke your fuckin’ pinky, Wilson. Take the damn pain meds.”  
  
    “I’m trained in medicine, _Barnes_ , and I know I don’t need ‘em.”  
  
Bucky jolted his leg a little, effectively kicking Sam in the ass. It had been like this ever since Sam had caught the shield at a bad angle and fucked up his little finger. Bucky suspected his pride hurt more than anything else, but he wouldn’t say so aloud.   
  
    “What the _fuck_ , Bucky?”  
  
    “Quit punishing yourself and take the damn painkillers. It’s 3 in the mornin’ and I’m tired of your shit.”  
  
    “Love you too,” Sam muttered acidly as he downed the pill with a swig of lukewarm water from the aluminium bottle that was always by his side.   
  
    “You what?”  
  
    “Anyway, I’m going back to bed soon. You can stop riding my ass now,” Sam said a little too loudly.  
  
    “I like riding your ass.”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes so hard that Bucky was surprised he didn’t pull a muscle. Then his gaze fell back on that damn shield and he seemed to fold in on himself a little.   
  
    “Sam–”  
  
    “I know it’s stupid, aight? I just wake up in the middle of the night and all I can think about is… _that._ ” Sam gestured listlessly to the shield. Steve’s– no, Sam’s shield.   
  
    “Not stupid.” Bucky fidgeted with Sam’s pill bottle for a few moments, and the silence was only broken by the rattle of the pills, and the faint ticking of their old radiator.  
“Can I try something?”  
  
    “What?” Sam asked suspiciously. Bucky didn’t blame him; the last bright idea he’d had had ended with jello wedged in every crevice of his metal hand. And then there’d been ants.   
  
Bucky used a finger to indicate that Sam should spin to sit facing away from him; with another narrow look, Sam acquiesced. Bucky did the same, ending up with his back pressed against Sam’s. He could feel the tension in the other man’s shoulders.  
  
    “Okay, Wilson. Talk.”  
  
    “Talk about what?”  
  
    “Talk about why you keep looking at the shield like it’s gonna kill you in your sleep.”  
  
    “God– shoulda seen this coming. You learn this little lean-on-me trick in therapy?”  
  
    “Yeah,” Bucky said simply.   
  
    “Dammit. It’s a good trick,” Sam muttered. He’d used it himself in some of his own sessions to great effect.  
  
    “Yeah. So, talk.”  
  
    “You gotta ask questions, man. I don’t… fuckin’ monologue. I ain’t _Rogers._ ”   
  
Ah. There it was.  
  
    “Fine, fine,” Bucky said, his voice a little gentler now. “Did you not want the shield?”  
  
    “I did,” Sam answered immediately. “Huh,” he added thoughtfully. “Didn’t know I was so sure about that til just now.”  
  
    “See? Lean on me works.”  
  
    “Don’t get smug,” Sam snorted.  
  
    “Think I will, though. Anyway, next: what’s scary about the shield?”  
  
    “I ain’t scared, Barnes.”  
  
    “Then what?”  
  
Sam’s answer was mumbled, but Bucky’s enhanced hearing caught it all the same.   
“You can’t really think that.”  
  
Sam just shrugged.  
  
    “You deserve that oversized dinner plate more than just about anyone,” Bucky continued matter-of-factly.   
  
    “Doubt anyone else is gonna think so,” Sam said. He sounded bone-deep tired now.  
  
    “Since when do you care what other people think?”  
  
    “Since I was given a giant target to carry,” Sam answered shortly. Bucky cast about for a delicate way to ask–   
  
    “Is it because you’re, uh…”  
  
    “Oh, I _gotta_ hear this,” Sam said almost gleefully, spinning around and elbowing Bucky in the side.   
  
    “Cut me some fuckin’ slack,” Bucky muttered. “I just… well, y’know. People are morons.”  
  
    “‘People are morons’ is a real white way to talk about racism,” Sam said lightly, almost smiling. Bucky made a face, but was wise enough not to argue there.  
“Nah, that’s just part of it. People are gonna be pissed to see my black ass with the shield, yeah yeah… if they want it so bad they can fuckin’ fight Thanos themselves. I’m just kinda already mad I’m gonna have to prove myself.”  
  
    “To who?” Bucky asked. He’d stopped facing away from Sam now, leaning into him, doing his best to support him in the same way Sam had supported him so many times before.   
  
    “ _Everyone_ , Barnes.”  
  
    “Not me. And sure as hell not Steve.”  
  
Sam laughed bitterly. “Two down, a few million more to go.” He chewed his lip and used his good hand to gesture to the shield again.   
“Lotta symbolism riding on this that I dunno I’m ready for. Lot of people gonna want me to fail. But they’re not what’s bothering me.”  
  
    “Then what?”  
  
    “The people that are gonna be happy to see someone like me as Cap. I don’t wanna let them down. Shit, I can’t be everywhere at once but I already feel like I need to be, an–”  
  
Bucky couldn’t fucking help leaning over and stopping Sam mid-sentence with a kiss. He felt almost fierce with how much he needed Sam to know how incredible he was.   
  
    “Rude. I was talkin’,” Sam said, dazed.  
  
    “This is why you deserve the fuckin’ shield, Sam Wilson. You’re already wondering how to save everyone before your new suit’s even been finished. You’re annoying, you’re so fucking _good_ ,” Bucky said in a rush. Sam just blinked.   
  
    “That,” Bucky said, jabbing his metal finger (still smelled slightly like lime jello) at the shield, “is yours because the man that had it saw hundreds of people do brave shit every day, and still chose _you_.”  
  
    “Ha. Doing a friend a favour.” Like poison being drawn from a wound, all the ugly things Sam had been telling himself came pouring out.  
  
    “Bullshit. He ain’t _that_ nice.”  
  
    “You’re right,” Sam admitted. Steve was practically feral when it came to extra cheesy French onion soup, so he wasn’t perfect.   
  
Sam let his head loll back, but Bucky could see that his shoulders were more relaxed now.   
  
    “If I had an important whatchamacallit–”  
  
    “Ohhh _fuck_ you’re old.”  
  
    “– and needed someone with a good head on his shoulders that also jumped out exploding buildings to save people he barely knew? You’re at the top of that list, bud.”  
  
Sam clicked his tongue, a little tell of his that meant he was really mulling something over. Used to annoy the fuck out of Bucky. Now, it was another cute thing that made him want to be near him all the fucking time. Dammit.  
  
    “Hey, Wilson.”  
  
    “Hm?”  
  
    “Remember when you accidentally said you loved me?”  
  
    “ _Nope_ ,” Sam said hastily. Bucky grinned.   
  
    “No? Oh, never mind then.”  
  
    “Never mind what?”  
  
    “Nothin’.”  
  
    “Bucky, don’t be an asshole, for one millisecond of one minute of one hour of–”  
  
    “Love you too. If that’s still on the table, I mean.”  
  
    “Oh.”  
  
    “Shut you up, huh?”  
  
    “Did you say that to shut me up or because it’s true?”  
  
    “¿Porque no los dos?”  
  
    “I hate you.”  
  
    “Thought you loved me?”  
  
Sam turned to give him a dirty look that lasted about 2 seconds before melting into a kind of goofy smile. Barnes always knew how to make him feel better. It was the _worst._   
  
    “All right, you win.”  
  
    “I win what?”  
  
    “ _Me_ , dumbass,” Sam smirked.  
  
Bucky scoffed dismissively and then not-so-subtly angled his body towards Sam again, hoping for another kiss. Sam didn’t disappoint, with a soft sigh that made Bucky’s heart flutter.   
  
    “You got some nerve makin’ me feel better,” Sam murmured against Bucky’s lips.  
  
    “Can’t have Cap being grumpy,” Bucky replied. Sam pulled back a little and grinned properly now, that stupidly cute gap between his teeth on display.   
  
    “Think I can learn how to throw that thing left-handed while my finger heals up?” Sam asked, furrowing his brow.   
  
    “You manage other things left-handed,” Bucky said suggestively. It didn’t take much to get him going when it came to Sam Wilson, to be honest. Sam raised an eyebrow and clicked his tongue thoughtfully.   
  
    “Guess I’m just talented,” Sam finally said. It was about damn time he remembered that.  
  


* * *

  
  
04:45, and Sam was finally sleeping. Bucky, on the other hand...   
  
He was doing his best not to make any noise or shake the bed too much as he jerked himself off.    
  
He and Sam had kissed all the way back to their bedroom, stopping only because they’d nearly knocked a painting off the wall in the hallway. Then, onto the bed, where Sam had… yawned really widely. That had kind of put a damper on things, although Sam had weakly insisted that he could have sex right then and there, really he could. Bucky settled for a peck on Sam’s cheek, knowing that sleep was probably slightly more appealing than physical exertion at this hour. They fell into a sprawling, loose-limbed doze with arms and legs entangled, and Bucky managed a whole 30 minutes of rest before a really hot dream made him open his eyes again.   
  
A really,  _ really _ hot dream. There was Sam, and … well, the new uniform he’d be wearing soon, and a lot of heroic posing…

  
Bucky Barnes had simple needs. A ridiculously handsome man with a gap-toothed grin and an ass crafted by god herself, in a tight uniform? Yeah. Hell yeah.   
  
    “You’re terrible at stealth,” Sam said suddenly from beside him. Bucky’s hand stilled. He’d been so close, too, goddammit. Sam didn’t even have the decency to sound tired.    
  
    “Sorry if I woke you,” Bucky grumbled. He turned his head to look over at Sam, but the other man was already wide awake and looking at him with a certain kind of interest. Maybe this little early morning venture would have a happy ending after all…   
  
    “I been awake. You didn’t have to stop.”   
  
    “Yeah?”   
  
    “Yeah.”   
  
    “Wanna watch?”   
  
    “For the first one, yeah,” Sam said, smiling slow and lazy. Bucky liked to show off for Sam sometimes, when the mood struck. And it really fucking did right now.    
  
    “First one, huh?” Bucky murmured even as he trailed his hand back down his stomach. Sam watched greedily as Bucky’s fingers slipped under the elastic waistband of his boxers, and his eyes darted back up to see Bucky’s expression when he finally started touching himself again. He always sucked in a sharp breath and then seemed to lose himself, letting out little sounds without shame as his pleasure arced from his fingers through the rest of his body.    
  
    “Mhmmm,” Sam hummed. He reached over to smooth some strands of hair away from Bucky’s cheek, and he leaned into the touch, even going to far as to nuzzle Sam’s palm. They were both very touch-oriented during sex, and Sam felt the all-too-familiar excitement like a low voltage crackling over his skin as Bucky’s facial hair rasped over his hand.    
  
    “What… you want?” Bucky asked now, sounding a little breathless. It wouldn’t take long for him to come, but Sam had mentioned ‘first one,’ meaning he had further plans.    
  
Without hesitation, Sam leaned in and brushed his lips along the sensitive skin of Bucky’s ear. Almost instantly, Bucky let out a strangled groan and then several sharp exhales as his orgasm suddenly crashed over him; he turned his head so that he and Sam were pressing their foreheads against each other, sharing the same breaths and exchanging uncoordinated kisses as Bucky shuddered his way through it.    
  
    “That’s one,” Sam said in a voice that was way too sexy for Bucky to handle in his post-orgasmic haze. Sam was clearly wide awake and turned on now; he was grinding his hips slowly against Bucky like he couldn’t help himself (he couldn’t.) Bucky only needed a few minutes before he was able to ask Sam to elaborate on what he’d wanted. Sam’s whispered response made Bucky almost break his neck because he got tangled in the bedsheets trying to get going.    
  
    “Make me say  _ please _ .”   
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
  
    “You sure the cast won’t get in the way?” Bucky asked. Sam’s eyelids fluttered open and he looked down at Bucky like that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.   
  
    “What the hell does a wrist cast have to do you you fucking me against a wall?”    
  
    “Dunno. Don’t want another trip to the hospital, Wilson.”   
  
    “Unless you’re planning to put me in a handstand, we’ll be fine.”   
  
Bucky looked thoughtful. (So did Sam.)    
  
    “I’m gonna go slow,” Bucky said as he let his arms drop slightly, careful not to let Sam slip despite lube being all over his fingers and Sam’s thighs.    
  
    “The hell you will, Barnes. I’m dying here,” Sam grit out. Bucky just tsked, ignoring Sam’s attempts to bounce slightly so he could ‘get his back blown out’ (his words) faster.    
  
    “You’ll live,” Bucky murmured softly as he teased at Sam’s entrance. Sam almost whimpered as his head dropped forward onto Bucky’s shoulder because it was torturous and it was everything he fucking loved and Bucky Barnes goddamn knew that. True to form, Bucky’d been fully hard again after a short respite and  _ this _ had been what Sam had been waiting for. A slow fuck up against the wall, where they could feel the rising sun creep across their sweaty skin. You know. Romantic-like.    
  
Sam let out a breathy sigh when he finally felt the slow, achingly slow stretch he’d been await for what felt like years. He felt Bucky’s biceps tighten to control the smooth movement, determined though he was not to hurt Sam (at least, not any more than Sam wanted.)    
  
    “Go, baby. I can take it,” Sam moaned low in his throat. They’d spent ages preparing him, Bucky teasing and licking and gently opening Sam up until he was hot all over and shaking with need. Bucky just quirked an eyebrow in response and continued his ministrations, fucking slowly into Sam with shallow thrusts. Sam’s breathing was coming heavy now, and he was whispering under his breath, a nonsensical chant with a lot of swears and taking the Lord’s name in vain. Still, Bucky waited. Sam knew what he wanted to hear; they played the same little game every time Sam wanted this.    
  
“Baby, baby… more. I need–”   
  
    “Mhmmm?” Bucky’s voice wasn’t as steady as before, and he was starting to sweat slightly. Sam was so fucking hot stretched around his cock, soft and slick and the fucking  _ sounds _ he was making with every time he felt the heavy drag of Bucky’s cock…    
  
    “Bucky,  _ please. _ ”    
  
There it was. Bucky finally let Sam’s weight pull him down until he was entirely inside and Sam’s long, drawn-out groan of pleasure made the whole fucking waiting game worth it. “Go on, Wilson. I did my part.”   
  
    “F-fuck you,” Sam gasped out. Bucky didn’t go for the obvious joke, because he was too distracted by Sam’s amazing thigh muscles flexing as he tightened his legs around Bucky’s hips and started to bounce on his dick. Bucky never failed to be impressed with this move; he barely had to support Sam’s weight at all, and he could concentrate on licking and biting at the hollow of Sam’s throat, bringing him close to the edge and backing off, again and again, until Sam gave him the signal to really go for it.   
  
Sam, meanwhile, was taking dick like a champ while chanting  _ fuck _ under his breath, denying himself the agonizing relief of his orgasm until he was damn near tears. Just the way he liked it.    
  
    “Bucky.”   
  
    “Sam.”   
  
    “I’m  _ dyin _ ’, baby.”   
  
    “You look … pretty lively to… to me,” Bucky said. He wasn’t gonna last much longer himself, but he’d be damned if he didn’t give Sam what he wanted.    
  
    “Go to hell,” Sam said, trailing off in a moan when Bucky pinched a nipple, a little meanly.    
  
    “Try again, sweetheart.”   
  
    “Okay, okay–  _ please _ , baby, please.” Sam was finally ready, and Bucky was more than happy to oblige. No matter how much practice they had (a lot. They had a lot of practice.), manoeuvring Sam so that his ankles were over Bucky’s shoulders was always a little awkward. But getting to fold the surprisingly flexible man almost in half while fucking him with some real goddamn gusto? The way Sam went silent except for his gasps for air, because he was so overwhelmed with sensation? The way his pupils were blown out, but his eyes were trained on Bucky’s and they both  _ knew _ they loved each other, why the fuck did it take so long for them to  _ say it _ –    
  
Sam never made a sound when he came hard, just shuddering out harsh breaths one after the other and holding Bucky in a punishing grip the 9 times out of 10 sent him careening over the edge too. Bucky started to move so that Sam could ease out of the undoubtedly uncomfortable position, but Sam rasped out “Fuck you doing? Finish inside me,” and, well. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman, (and definitely wanted to hear Sam pretend to be surprised that he had cum dribbling down the back of his thigh later on) so …   
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
  
    “Bucky, can you grab me my pills?” Sam mumbled later from under the duvet.   
  
    “Your hand get hurt again?”   
  
    “No, but… don’t laugh, Barnes.”   
  
    “No promises.”   
  
    “My back’s fucking killing me, man.”   
  
    “New Captain America Out Of Commission, Had Sex-Related Back Injury From Being Fucked So Good,” Bucky drawled, spreading his hands as though writing the headline.    
  
Sam laughed until his back twinged again, because Bucky always knew how to make him feel better. It was the worst (and Sam hoped it never stopped.)  
  



End file.
